Not With Haste
by TorresCx3
Summary: AU: You think the hardest part is letting go, until you realize you need to learn how to start over again.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** The characters are not mine, they were created by Shonda Rhimes and Grey's Anatomy is the property of ABC. No infringement intended.

**AN**: No Beta - There will no doubt be mistakes, all mine.

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**Prologue: 'What If...'**

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Bad things happen; however, it's how people respond to them that defines not only their character but their quality of life. They can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of their loss, or they can choose to rise up from the pain and treasure the most precious gift they have - life itself.

Life is a series of ups and downs. It sets us challenges when we least expect it, testing our courage and our willingness to evolve. At such moments, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready to deal with it. Sooner or later, decisions have to be made. Life cannot be put on hold. Time moves forward - with or without us.

Change is inevitable; moving on however, is a conscious decision. It isn't one that happens automatically. It is usually a process.

At first there is something that makes you hold on, that makes you want to try again and again. It draws you back to one another, no matter the circumstances.

But what if this time it wasn't enough? What if what you thought was right, isn't right anymore? What if you're clinging to the past because you're scared of the future?

What if it really is time to move on? After all, the heart is a far more practical thing than most people have us believe.

We are told from a young age that when we are older we will find 'the one.' You know - the person we will spend the rest of our life with. Our one true love!

It's in all the great fairy tales - _'And they lived happily ever after.'_

But what if the person you thought was 'the one' cheats on you? Resents you? Blames you for the current situation they find themself in?

What do you do then?

What if they don't want children and you want nothing more than a house full of kids? How do you compromise on an issue like that? Who bends for the other?

Is it a deal-breaker?

The truth of the matter is that the heart is capable of forming more than one single attachment in its life time. Sometimes we are thrown for a loop and have to act accordingly, no matter how hard it may be.

It can be devastating. Heartbreaking, when you love someone; but ultimately, we need to release the hurt. Release the fear, and move on with our lives.

Callie_ loved_ Arizona.

Owen _loved _Cristina.

But what if that wasn't enough, not this time.

_'What if...'_

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**AN: **This is purely fun! The pairing is a crackship in the Grey's fandom right now: Callie and Owen. I will have the first real chapter up by tomorrow, probably.


	2. The Gala

**Chapter One: The Gala**

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Owen Hunt and Jackson Avery had worked hard planning the Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital Gala. They had sent the invitations, ordered the supplies, hired the catering staff, and booked the entertainment.

They had _even_ managed to rally together the board members; ensuring their attendance at the event. A task which proved to be difficult, with tensions still running high between certain individuals in the wake of the storm.

However, it was important that they pushed their problems aside and focused on the task at hand; which was, to raise enough money to return the hospital to its former glory. Everyone had to be on their game. They had to play the perfect hosts; which involved entertaining the guests as best they could and sweet-talking them into loosening their purse-strings.

As an added incentive, Jackson had promised that ten percent of the profit they made from the Gala would go to the person or department who had helped raise the most money. This made it a little more enticing for the surgeons, who seemed to thrive off the competition; each of them wanting the money for their own department and research.

Callie Torres, however, was not interested.

She had offered to stay at the hospital, to keep an eye on things there instead; but, the offer had been refused.

She came to a stop when she reached the set of large double doors. "Okay, you can do this," she muttered to herself, shaking off her anxiety. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the heavy wooden door open; entering the room and unleashing the pandemonium of noise that was muffled by it only a moment earlier.

A sea of well-dressed men and women came into view; their incessant chatter swelling as the attendees moved around the room from person to person, making conversation.

Servers bobbed and weaved their way through the elegantly dressed guests, balancing trays upon their hands; some serving snacks, whilst others served flutes of champagne, glasses of colorful cocktails, or carried bottles of wine to top up people's glasses.

Callie frowned slightly at the sight, before allowing her eyes to take in the utter beauty of the place. The room they hired had been completely transformed, as if by magic. Everything just looked that much more extravagant: more elegant; striking, really. A series of mesmerizing chandeliers hung from the ceiling; the numerous crystals casting prisms of light and color across the sculpted ceiling and down onto the black and white tiled dance floor, which now seemed to sparkle. Large windows, which scaled from the floor to the ceiling, were draped with black curtains and silver trimmings, trailing down in cascades of lavish texture. In the farthest corner of the room, there was a stage; on it, sat a small orchestra, who were playing a sweet melody, which was unfortunately drowned out by the sea of guests chatting away to each other.

"Torres!" she heard a voice call. Owen smiled. His eyes intensely stared at her, seeming to take in her appearance with as much admiration as she did with his. It was only natural at an event like this. "You made it," he said, relieved.

A server passed by, holding a tray of champagne flutes. Callie suddenly stopped him, sweeping a glass off the platter with a smile and nod.

Meredith raised an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't coming," she teased. Callie had claimed all week: loudly; _repeatedly,_ in fact, that she would not be attending.

"I changed my mind. Good food, free booze, the educated company of my fellow surgeons," she replied, raising her glass of champagne to her lips and taking a sip. "What's not to like?''

"How about your wife?" Cristina chimed in. "I thought you were dreading being in the same room as Arizona."

"Cristina!" Meredith and Owen said simultaneously, chastising the unfiltered woman.

Cristina shook her head. "What?" she questioned, bewildered by their reaction. "Those were her words, not mine."

Callie forced a small smile. "It's okay," she lied, knowing fine well she was anxious about spending so much time in the same room as Arizona. "Besides, you should be more worried about me winning that prize money for Ortho." With that, she walked away; slowly making her way around the room, craning her neck in an attempt to see who was entertaining the various guests. She was annoyed, and a little relieved, that Arizona hadn't seemed to have arrived yet.

She stopped at the bar and downed the rest of her champagne, before picking up a fresh one. It took her some time to make her way to a clear vantage point; everyone she made eye contact with wanted to talk to her about the hospital, and she could not pass on her opportunity to solicit their donations. She listened and nodded politely, then excused herself as quickly as possible. As she drew near the spot, the crowd parted and she stopped dead in her tracks, having caught sight of Arizona.

At that same moment a gentleman approached her, striking up a conversation and complimenting her on her TED speech. At first she was flattered but she couldn't help but watch Arizona out of the corner of her eye whilst the man rambled on and she nodded along in agreement.

She looked positively stunning. Her blonde hair sat by her shoulders in loose waves, and the simple diamond earrings she wore in her ears along with her heart-shaped necklace complimented the long floral gown she was wearing perfectly. Her sapphire eyes shone in the dim light of the room and for a brief moment Callie lost herself in that gaze that stared back at her so intensely.

She thought with time things would get easier, but apparently not. She had cried until she could cry no more, and even then non-existent tears threatened to spill. She was exhausted and her heart ached with a pain unlike anything she had ever known. Arizona's cheating had struck something so deep in her soul that she thought she'd shatter; and, there were moments she wished she would. She couldn't stand the emptiness inside. She had been humiliated yet again. It was pathetic. She, was pathetic.

_"You didn't lose anything! I did. I did."_

She could feel a dull pain in her chest, the armour she had built threatening to crack. She briefly averted her gaze, looking at the man in front of her; who, was apparently still talking.

"You're an inspiration," he said solemnly. "If I had lost my wife in a plane crash-"

That caught her attention. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Your wife... she died in the crash, right?"

Callie looked over the man's shoulder, to find the spot where Arizona stood now vacant. As she met the man's gaze once more, the words slipped out of her mouth; hesitantly, "Yes... Yes, she did."

The man continued to praise her bravery and offer his condolences but Callie had completely zoned out and could not hear a word he was saying. She had knots in her stomach and she felt nauseous at the lie she had just told.

_"Apparently, I lost you."_

Her chest constricted, the tightness hindered her from breathing; she needed air, she felt warm, and she needed to be somewhere else, anywhere but here. Looking towards the door of the room she apologized and made a hasty exit. The man watched in confusion, feeling bad for bringing up such a sensitive topic. Feeling guilty, he noted that he would need to make a generous donation to make up for having upset the widow in such a way.

Everything hit Callie all at once, she felt her eyes fill with water but she didn't pause to compose herself, she continued walking, until she reached the door, pulling it open and colliding with something, well... someone.

"Dammit," she breathed. Her eyes narrowed in anger and frustration but as she lifted her head the man in front of her was looking extremely apologetic.

"Sorry," Owen said automatically. "Are you okay?" he asked, noticing the lack of color in her face, her red puffy eyes and drained expression. The door slammed shut, muffling the noise coming from the ballroom, leaving them standing in the now silent hallway.

"Yeah," Callie lied, but she inwardly winced as her voice cracked. With a hearty sniff, she shook it off, "I'm fine. I'll be fine." With just a look, Callie knew Owen didn't believe her but to his credit he didn't press on. He remained frozen on the spot, staring at her with a concerned look on his face.

She drew a deep breath, slowly breaking down the walls she had built. His attentive gaze prompted her to talk. "Do you ever feel like you've made so many mistakes in the past, messed things up so beyond repair, that you can't fix them? That no matter what you do, you just feel like a heavy weight; always dragging those around you down, affecting their happiness."

She paused for a moment.

"Because that's it. That's me. I seem to ruin anything good that comes my way. Everyone I care about either cheats on me or dies. Or cheats on me then dies; George did both. I'm the common denominator, so it must be me-"

"Okay," Owen interrupted. "Stop."

Callie was taken aback by his firm tone of voice.

He shifted to face her completely, his face serious as he went on. "You can't think like that." His voice softened, lowering as he looked at her.

It was his turn to pause.

"You may have a broken past and may have made mistakes, but you are not responsible for other people's actions. They aren't a reflection on you. They don't _define_ you." He smiled gently and placed a hand on Callie's shoulder giving it a tight squeeze. The sweetness of the simple gesture moved her, especially in this state of vulnerability. "People are responsible for their own actions, not you."

Callie didn't know what to say, had no idea what to think, and wasn't sure what to feel.

Luckily, Owen continued talking, "But there is always a reason, Callie. It might help to find out how you got to this point. Why Arizona did what she did?"

Callie sighed, recognizing the truth in his statement, but she wasn't there yet. She was just so angry, so devastated and sad that this had happened, yet again. "I just told a potential donor that Arizona died in the plane crash," she admitted. Owen's eyes widened in shock, but she continued, "It's horrible. I'm horrible. I don't even know why, I just-"

"You were angry and upset," Owen offered, weakly. "People say and do things they don't mean all the time. They let their emotions get the best of them. I mean, I get it..."

Callie continued to stare, hanging onto each word.

"This relationship stuff, it's not easy. Cristina keeps pushing me to date other people-"

"She wants you to date other people?" Callie interrupted, shocked. "You're kidding, right?"

Owen shook his head. "You know Cristina," he resigned. "She's stubborn, and she thinks we both need to move on; for good, this time..."

"Sorry," Callie apologized; feeling bad about the situation Owen found himself in. It was clear he was hurting and she could sympathize completely; for she knew all too well the utter devastation that was a loved one breaking your heart, pulling away from you.

"I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like," Callie said, meeting Owens gaze. "Having to start over again," she continued. Owen stared at her intently, recognizing the pain reflected in her eyes, the fear and hurt in her voice.

She let out a deep sigh. "I'm so not ready for that, you know?" Her head was clocked to the side; her eyes questioning and her tone soft.

She just looked so vulnerable.

Slowly, Owen nodded his head. He continued his staring match with Callie until the door to the ballroom swung open and some guests sauntered into the hall, bringing with them some noise. "You can't keep telling people she's dead," Owen said simply, breaking the silence that had come between them.

"I know," Callie responded, her face contorting a little in disgust. "So gross," she shuddered.

Silence loomed between them.

"Do you want to head back in now?" Owen asked. "I don't know about you, but I could be doing with another drink?"

"I could be doing with the bottle," Callie joked, her tone completely serious. Owen laughed and she couldn't help but join in.

The door opened once more and Jo approached them, clearly flustered. "Thank God!" she exclaimed. "There's been an accident, one of the performers fell; and well, all the guests are just staring at her and it looks really bad. You can see her bone through the skin and there's blood-"

"Wilson," Owen interrupted, stopping her nervous rant. He gripped her shoulders so she was frozen on the spot, standing face to face with him, "Breathe." Following his instructions, she took a deep breath and exhaled gratefully, feeling slightly better. "Now, lead the way."

"Right," Jo replied sharply. "Of course."

"Maybe we can get that drink some other time?" Owen suggested.

"Yeah." Callie nodded. "Sometime."

They looked at each other for a second, smiles plastered on their faces, before they followed Jo into the room and over to the performer; who was lying in the middle of the dance floor, with tears streaming down her face. She definitely needed surgery, which meant it was time to shut this party down. Call it a night.

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**This Gala was not the clown invested one we saw in 10x04. Like Bailey, clowns freak me out!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. How About That Drink?

**Chapter Two: How About That Drink?**

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The alarm bleeped softly as Callie woke from her sleep. She rolled over and looked at the clock before stretching out her muscles; it had been a long time since she had gotten this much uninterrupted sleep and she luxuriated in the feeling. She had missed sleeping in her own bed. Missed _her_ apartment.

She was extremely grateful that Meredith and Derek had let her and Sofia stay at the dream house for as long as they did; but, it wasn't home. Things just felt better here. She felt settled. _Safe_.

Leaning over to the bedside cabinet, she checked her cell phone. No missed calls. No messages. She smiled, rolling out of bed and making her way into the bathroom to shower and get ready for work.

Once ready, she peeked her head around Sofia's bedroom door. The young girl was still sound asleep, wrapped tightly in her blanket: snuggling into her favorite stuffed toy - a yellow bunny, and snoring lightly.

She walked over to the bed, smiling. "Sofia," she said softly, running a hand through her daughter's smooth black hair. "It's time to get up, baby."

A small pout formed on the young girl's face as she shifted and moaned, trying to find the strength to open her eyes, which were still too heavy from sleep. When she finally managed to open them, a lazy smile settled on her face and she held out her arms, wanting her usual morning cuddles from her mommy.

Callie smiled: picking her up, the stuffed rabbit dangling from Sofia's little hand. She quickly rested her head on Callie's shoulder and wrapped her chubby little arms around her, squeezing tightly. "Good morning," Callie said, happily. Sofia lifted her head, giving her mom a big kiss, before being placed back down on the ground.

"How about pancakes for breakfast?" Callie asked, knowing Sofia wouldn't be able to resist. She loved them; though she was only allowed to have them every now and then as a treat.

Sofia smiled, nodding her head and letting out an enthusiastic squeal as she ran from her bedroom into the kitchen.

Callie laughed, following her.

As she made Sofia's pancakes, she couldn't help but feel sad that she didn't get to do this for her every morning. It broke her heart that Sofia was stuck in the middle of this mess, and that neither she nor Arizona got to spend every day and night with her. They both felt lost when she wasn't around.

After breakfast, she started getting Sofia ready, making sure to pack an extra bag. Tonight, Arizona would pick her up from daycare and she would spend a couple of nights with her mama.

Both ready, they made their way out of the apartment and to the hospital, starting their day in the best way possible - happy.

* * *

Callie sat in the attending's lounge with a cup of coffee in her hand, staring blankly at the journal on the table in front of her. She felt numb. She seemed to be in shock, she thought; because whatever she felt now was the furthest thing from sadness she knew, but it was not happiness, either. It was nothing – simply nothing. How was that even possible? She should feel something. _Anything._

Hearing someone open the door, she skimmed the pages of the journal with one hand and sipped the burning hot liquid with the other, hissing when it scalded her tongue. However, the person did not enter the room, and it made Callie feel uneasy; knowing that she was being watched.

"Can I help you with something Murphy, or are you going to stand there and stare all day?" She didn't look up, her eyes remaining firmly locked on the journal.

Leah didn't move from her spot, still standing in the doorway. Callie's eyes flicked up, acknowledging her presence. "I'm kind of busy here, Leah. What is it?" she said coldly, before turning her attention back to the journal in her hand.

Leah shifted uncomfortably, her voice shaky as she said, "I'm on your service today, Dr. Torres."

As if on cue Callie's pager went off.

"Sorry, not today," Callie said sweetly, getting to her feet. "I'm sure my _wife_ will find room for you on her service though," she continued. Leah's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in shock. Callie knew. "You are sleeping with her after all, are you not?"

She could feel her heart beat increase, hammering in her chest, begging to escape. How did Callie know? Had Arizona told her? Callie was her boss… well, part-owner of the hospital. This was going to affect her career. Her education. Reputation.

"The nurses are terrible gossips," Callie informed the squirming blonde, who now stood face to face with her. "You really should be more careful about what you say in front of them."

With that, she squished the plastic coffee cup she held in her hand, and threw it in the trash.

"I feel so much better now that's out in the open," she declared, with a passive aggressive smile on her face. "Don't you?"

Leah looked down to the ground, unable to make eye contact with her. "I didn't think so," Callie said, in a matter of fact tone, before walking out of the room, leaving an emotional and speechless Leah behind.

She knew that she had been harsh with the intern; mean, even… but she thought it was only right that Leah feel even the tiniest amount of humiliation and shame.

After all, those were two feelings Callie was all too familiar with these days; the gossip mill at the hospital continuing to thrive off the mess that was her life. This being the latest in a series of events.

As she entered the ER, she made her way over to the gurney Owen and April stood beside. "What have we got?" she asked, curtly.

"Her name is Reese Woods: twenty-two," April began. "Hang gliding over Tiger Mountain; BP is a hundred over seventy. Open tibia fracture and complains of abdominal pain."

"Can I say I told you so now?" A small blonde woman snapped, clearly frustrated with the injured woman.

"Who's this?" Callie asked, confused.

"That's Donna," April answered. "She's the sister."

Callie nodded, and then leaned over to get a closer look at Reese's leg. "Okay. This isn't bone, this is a rod. When did you get this rod put in?"

"This March," Donna answered. "She broke it skiing in New Zealand. She has also broken both forearms, lost a kidney, dislocated her shoulder…"

"Wow, you really do have a death wish, huh?" Callie interrupted, talking to Reese, who told her she was making up for lost time.

"I'm seeing a lot of free fluid," Owen informed them, examining Reese's abdomen. "We're going to have to get her up to C.T, stat."

Owen, Callie and April spent the day with Donna and Reese: the case taking an emotional toll on them all. However, it was an overall success with Donna deciding to donate her kidney to her sister in the end.

* * *

Scrubbing out from the surgery, Callie noticed Owen staring at her. "What?" she asked, tilting her head to the side slightly, curious.

"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head and continuing to wash his hands. "Actually," he hesitated, looking back into Callie's dark eyes. "You seemed bothered by Donna's decision; you know, to donate her kidney..." he left the words hanging in the air, waiting for Callie to say something, but she didn't, not right away.

Once they had finished scrubbing out, she spoke. "She said yes," Callie said simply, gaining Owen's full attention. "She tried to say no, but in the end she couldn't walk away; she said yes, _again_."

"Okay," Owen replied, not sure where this was going.

"Don't you get it," Callie spat, frustrated. "Reese does the same thing over and over again; she doesn't change or learn from her mistakes. She continues to be reckless, knowing that her sister is always going to be there to pick up the pieces. It's selfish. And Donna does it, she goes back to her. She can't say no, no matter how hard she tries or how badly she wants to, and she wants to..."

"She's her sister," Owen explained, confused about Callie's strong reaction to something he felt was natural. "She loves her, Callie. You do anything for the people you love. Reese is her family."

Callie's eyes filled with tears. "She should move on," she said quietly.

Finally understanding, Owen said, "You know it's not that easy."

"It should be," Callie replied, sniffling slightly.

"I went on a date last night," Owen said randomly, trying to make this better in any way he could. He didn't like seeing Callie cry. "And it was good," he admitted. "She was great. Nice. We went to a fancy restaurant, ordered food, drank some wine, got to know one another a little better."

He paused, sighing.

"But you know all I could think about?" he asked Callie. "All I could think about was how she's not Cristina. And that's not fair on her. I can't compare everyone to her, because no one is _ever_ going to take her place, you know?"

Callie nodded, understanding.

"But I'm trying," Owen shrugged. "I'm trying to move on, Callie. It's what she wants. It's what she thinks is best in the long run and there's nothing I can do or say that is going to change her mind, because I want kids and she doesn't, and she knows that. We _both_ know that."

Callie let out a loud sigh, recognizing how awful the situation was for him. Owen looked so sad, so broken. "Do you want to go get that drink?" she suggested, feeling in need of one herself.

Owen looked up, a smile settling on his face. "I would love to go get a drink," he replied, nodding his head. "I just need to finish up a few things before I leave though, is that okay? It shouldn't take long."

Callie smiled. "That's fine. No rush."

With that, they decided to meet at the nurses station in the foyer, before heading to Joe's for a drink. She just wanted to forget. For one night. Have fun.

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**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Joe's Bar

**Chapter Three: Joe's Bar**

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"Mommy!" Callie heard Sofia yell, excitedly. She turned around and caught sight of the toddler running towards her, Arizona not far behind.

Scooping the little girl up in her arms, she said, "Hey, baby girl. How was your day? Did you have fun?"

Sofia nodded her head enthusiastically, cuddling into her mom, before beginning to struggle, wanting back down.

As Arizona came to a stop by her side, Callie had to bite her tongue; knowing that now was not the time or place to discuss anything, not in front of Sofia.

Any time they tried to have a conversation it would turn into an argument, and she was sick and tired of arguing.

It was just one thing after another.

"Sorry," Arizona apologized, her voice sincere. "She got all excited when she saw you and I didn't want to drag her off without letting her say goodnight or anything..."

"It's okay," Callie replied, understanding. She would have done the same thing.

Arizona smiled, nodding her head in response.

Callie had to remember not to look at her too closely when she smiled like that. Her smile had always been one of her best features; her pearly white teeth, wide grin and dimples.

Time stopped for a moment as Arizona's eyes met her gaze, both of them staring at each other; blue eyes piercing brown. It was intense, neither saying a word; conversation would have been better, anything to take their eyes off each other.

"Boo!" They heard Sofia squeal, before the sound of her sweet laughter filled the air. Both of their heads whipped around in the young girl's direction, ending their staring contest.

She was playing with one of the nurses, hiding underneath the station, before jumping up and yelling 'boo,' giving the nurse a fright.

The nurse played along; letting out a loud gasp, dramatically bringing her hand to her chest and jumping back in fear, which made Sofia giggle and repeat her actions again and again.

Callie and Arizona met each other's gaze once more, both laughing at their daughter's playful antics.

Someone had been watching too much Monsters Inc. It was her favorite right now.

"Okay, little miss," Arizona said, getting Sofia's attention. "It's home time. Give mommy kisses and cuddles."

Sofia did as she was told, and after an awkward goodbye from Arizona the two walked away, leaving Callie standing alone at the nurses' station.

She watched, waving goodbye one last time, before they disappeared through the door and into the darkness of the night.

* * *

Owen rounded the corner to the nurses' station, coming to an abrupt stop when he caught sight of Callie, leaning on the counter, deep in thought. He smiled to himself, deciding to admire her from a distance for just a moment longer, before approaching her.

She had changed out of her navy blue scrubs and was now wearing a red top that clung to her chest in just the right way and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, which accentuated her long legs and showed off her curves.

To top it all off, she had on her signature black leather jacket and her hair had been released from its hold, now sitting in loose waves just beneath her shoulders.

In short, she looked hot.

Owen came to a stop when he reached her side. "Ready to go?" he asked.

Callie jumped a little, startled. "Yeah," she replied, quickly shaking it off, smiling and falling into step beside him. Both of them easing into conversation as they made their way out of the hospital and over to Joe's.

Pushing the heavy wooden door open, they entered the bar.

The tables were spread evenly around the room. The bar itself an island, pressed up against the farthest wall with a dozen or so backed bar stools dotted in front of it.

Each table was full and the gentle lull of hushed conversations dominated the atmosphere.

Noticing some spare seats, they made their way through the crowd to the bar, pulling out a stool each and taking a seat.

The bar tender finished wiping down the hard wooden surface before looking up with a smile on his face. He threw the towel he was holding over his shoulder and turned his attention to Owen first, asking, "The usual?"

Callie seemed somewhat surprised, looking at Owen with a concerned look on her face, but she decided not to say anything. Not wanting to make a mountain out of a molehill.

After all, she had been there and done that.

Alcohol and sex with Mark Sloan were her way of dealing with things in the past, or rather… not dealing with them.

She was just lucky that she had Sofia to think about now.

Even when she felt like her world was collapsing around her, there was Sofia; her beautiful, bright, baby girl, who never failed to put a smile on her face.

She was her priority.

_Always._

Owen's face flushed slightly, his gaze shifting uncomfortably from the bartender to Callie and back again. "Yeah," he responded, "The usual."

It was then the bartender turned his attention to Callie. "I'll have a jack and coke," she told him, smiling.

The two of them sat in silence for a while, listening to the chatter of the other patrons as the bartender fetched them their drinks.

Owen wanted to say something to break the silence, but starting conversations had never been his forte.

Besides, there were a lot of normal topics of conversation that were off-limits due to their personal circumstances, so he thought it was better —and safer— to let Callie decide what she wanted to talk about.

Shifting in his seat, he turned slightly to face her. She had an amused look on her face. "What?" he asked, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh — nothing," she teased. Her tone mischievous.

Both of them nodded their thanks to the bartender as he slid their drinks across the bar and into their hands.

Owen stared at Callie, expectantly.

Finally, she spoke. "So, you're dating now?" she inquired, arching a brow, playfully.

Owen's smile widened and he let out a small laugh. "One date," he answered. "That's all."

"But it was good," Callie responded, lifting her glass from the bar and taking a sip. "Are you going to see her again?" she asked, curious.

Owen shrugged, "Maybe." He hesitated for a moment, before adding, "I'm not sure."

Emma was nice; she was a surgeon, charming, pretty, but... there just seemed to be something missing between them. Something Owen couldn't quite put his finger on.

There was just, no… _heat_.

"What about you?" he asked, taking a drink of his scotch. "Did you speak to Arizona?"

He figured the question wasn't too intrusive considering Callie had opened up to him about Arizona numerous times now.

They had become good friends; each other's confidant, so to speak.

Callie winced. "Not really," she replied. "Everything just turns into an argument, and I am sick and tired of arguing about every little thing. The only time we don't argue is when we are talking about Sofia; well, mostly..." she faltered, thinking about it. "I guess there have been moments."

Callie was stubborn, but so was Arizona. In fact, most of the arguments that occurred between them arose from the fact that both of them were too stubborn to back down. Their communication was awful, it always had been and they weren't equipped to deal with the enormity of the situation they found themselves in. Not on their own at least.

Callie paused, before sharing her latest news with Owen.

"I found out today that Arizona has been sleeping with Leah Murphy," she revealed, casually taking a swig of her drink.

Owen's eyes widened. "Murphy," he repeated, shocked. "The intern?"

Callie took another drink, nodding her response.

"That's..." he paused, trying to find the right words. "I mean..."

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Are you okay?" he finally managed to ask. He knew it was a stupid question, but he didn't know what else to say.

There was no pity in his voice, which would only have increased Callie's anxiety and humiliation. Yes, concern was evident but also a request to listen and help which made the concern a little less embarrassing.

She hesitated, biting her lip before responding. "I'm fine," she replied, forcing a small smile before averting her gaze briefly, her eyes flicking around the crowded bar.

"I'll be fine," she repeated, her eyes finally meeting Owen's again. The depths of which radiated warmth, safety, and a certain calmness.

All the emotions she couldn't find within herself.

A genuine smile spread across her face, before she brought her glass to her mouth, tipping her head back and emptying the contents.

Owen signaled to the bartender to bring them another round.

* * *

After the initial awkwardness, conversation seemed to flow much easier between them; from professional to personal and back again. Of course, this might have been because they had been drinking for a while now and the alcohol was beginning to take its toll.

"Webber," Owen replied, almost spitting his drink out.

"Yep," Callie confirmed. "You should have seen his face! I was so embarrassed."

Callie laughed, and Owen couldn't help but join in.

He noted that she had the most infectious laugh. Though it wasn't only the sound that enticed him now; he found himself noticing the gentle crinkle in her nose, how bright her smile was, how it seemed to reach her eyes, which sparkled with both mischief and delight.

She had the most beautiful expressive brown eyes.

"I've missed having fun," Callie slurred, leaning forward. "I mean, this has been fun... right?"

"Yeah," Owen replied. "It has."

"And, it's just... it's so easy, you know?"

Owen, slowly, nodded his head.

He was very aware of the small distance between Callie's face and his own, and his world narrowed until he was only aware of the motion of her lips as she spoke.

"I've missed that too," she admitted, her gaze instinctually dropping to Owen's mouth before returning to his clear blue eyes. "Things being easy," she clarified, rather awkwardly.

Owen swallowed hard. "Yeah," he agreed.

They both sat frozen in place, surprised by the sudden electricity between them: lost in the sea of potential outcomes that could arise from this moment depending on the next move either one of them made.

"I'm so drunk," Callie said, pulling back. "Maybe we should call it a night?"

"Yeah, that's…" Owen cleared his throat. "That's probably best."

Neither was sure what had just happened between them, they didn't know whether to be relieved or saddened. To forget about it or take it seriously; they were drunk and the alcohol was clouding their judgment. That's all it was, right?

* * *

**Not entirely happy with this chapter; but, oh well, onto the next.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. These Feelings

**Chapter Four: These Feelings**

* * *

By the time Callie got to work she was feeling surprisingly good. All it took was a warm shower, some aspirin and a cup of coffee to cure her hangover, or at least numb it into submission. Her first surgery of the day had gone smoothly and she had visited Sofia in day care. She had even managed to avoid Owen, which was a bonus, because she was freaking out a little about last night: it wasn't that it wasn't good, it was. It was a great night, with great company, but she just could not stop thinking about _that_ moment between them.

_What even was that?_

She had asked herself this question repeatedly, but she didn't have an answer.

All she knew was that she hadn't laughed that hard in a long time. She hadn't felt so comfortable with someone, so safe, so... well, happy, really.

She had lost herself to the moment, to his gaze: to those stormy blue eyes that roamed over her face, before settling on her lips, looking at her intently, with a mixture of both curiosity and want.

He was hesitant, so was she.

The air between them was thick: static, filled with electricity, and neither knew what to do about it. A part of her wanted to close the gap, wanted to lean forward and press her lips against his: feel his strength as he pulled her in, closer to him, parting her mouth and deepening the kiss.

For a moment, she thought about it.

_One fleeting moment. _

But then she remembered that she was with Owen Hunt, her friend and colleague, and that they were both drunk: both vulnerable, and both hurting.

It was just a bad idea.

She blamed her thoughts on the alcohol, but when she woke from her sleep this morning, it was still on her mind, and that scared the crap out of her.

More than she would care to admit.

It terrified her.

However, despite her conflicted thoughts and feelings, it had been a good morning. With twenty minutes to spare before her next surgery, she decided to go to the coffee cart to load up on some more caffeine: knowing she had a long day of back to back surgeries ahead of her.

* * *

Owen leaned on the railing of the catwalk, a floor above the surgical ward and right next to his office. He often did this when he had a lot on his mind or had to make an important decision. His blue eyes surveyed the scurrying staff below, hard at work and unaware of his presence. Any outsider would assume all was well down there, but he knew better. He knew of every inappropriate relationship, feud and surgical mishap. His staff thought him none the wiser, but he knew.

Letting out a sigh, he turned and made his way back into his office, sitting comfortably on the large, black, leather chair and leaning on the wooden desk in front of him. He closed his eyes, raising a hand to massage his forehead in frustration.

He was trying to think of something else. Anything else, but it didn't work.

All he could think about was Callie Torres, which was just completely inappropriate.

First of all, she was married, with a child, and it was clear she was struggling to come to terms with the status of her relationship after being cheated on. Second, she was his friend. She looked to him for support. She trusted him: confided in him. And third, he was still in love with Cristina, who was Callie's friend and colleague.

It was a mess.

It was..._ inappropriate._

That was the only word he could use to describe it.

Looking at the clock on the wall, he took his pager out of his pocket, paging Meredith Grey to come to his office. He had discretely told Cristina, who was on-call, to come at this time too, trying to avoid them finding out that he needed to speak to them both at the same time.

He didn't want to add to the drama between them, which had already gotten pretty out of hand. He just wanted to help them come to some sort of agreement regarding the new 3D printer they both wanted to use, since they were failing to do it themselves, and it was his job as Chief of Surgery to step in and take charge when necessary.

Meredith arrived first, taking a seat opposite him. They made small talk until there was a knock on the door. "Come in," he shouted. Cristina stood at the entrance of the door with both sets of eyes on her, looking at her expectantly. "Cristina," he said, greeting her, knowing that he had to handle this carefully.

Cristina looked from Owen to Meredith, confused.

She had obviously interrupted something, she thought to herself. "I can come back later," she said quickly. "I thought you would be free to talk, since you told me to come at this time." She shifted her weight uncomfortably, her eyes shifting briefly to Meredith before settling back on Owen. "But you're clearly busy, so…"

Owen pointed to the empty seat next to Meredith. "Take a seat," he said sharply, his tone serious.

"Owen," she moaned, giving him _that look._

He knew that look all too well, but he stared at her, pleading with his eyes.

With a reluctant sigh, she closed the door, pulling the seat next to Meredith out and sitting down. Sneaking a glance at her, she took comfort knowing that Meredith looked just as confused as her about the situation they found themselves in.

Once settled in her seat she asked, "What is this about?"

Owen straightened up in his chair. "The printer," he replied. "You can't keep fighting over it."

Meredith and Cristina looked at each other, before meeting Owen's gaze once more.

This wasn't going to end well.

* * *

The on-call room door the two women stood behind burst open unapologetically, showing a fuming Miranda Bailey. Her cheeks were slightly flushed with anger and she was breathing heavily. She pushed the door closed and straightened up, glaring daggers at the two of them as she stepped further into the room.

If looks could kill Callie and Arizona did not stand a chance. "You are being way too loud in here, do you know that?!" she asked angrily through gritted teeth, trying to keep her own voice to a minimum. "I could hear you all the way down the hall. Do you really think this is an appropriate place for your infantile bickering?!"

For someone so small she was a power-house of intimidation who commanded respect, so neither woman dared to actually answer her. "This is a hospital and to top it off a pediatric ward. There are children dying, mothers and fathers worrying about their sick children and you two decide to argue in here of all places."

Both women looked like children standing in front of the principal getting into trouble, showered in disappointment. Unable to make eye contact with Bailey they both looked at the floor wishing it would swallow them up.

"Robbins, I know you know better than that! And as for you Torres, I don't know what on earth has gotten into you today, but whatever this is," she pointed between the two wide eyed surgeons, "deal with it." With that, she left, slamming the door loudly and leaving the two women speechless.

There were a few seconds of silence that ticked by painfully slow, neither of them saying a single word, though they both seemed to want to. They just didn't know where to begin. So instead, they stood staring at each other, consumed by the silence thundering around them.

Callie sighed. "Look at us," she said sadly, gesturing between them, finally breaking the silence. "How did we get here, Arizona? We can't even be in the same room without screaming at each other."

Arizona didn't respond. She didn't need to, the silence that had filled the room said more than words. It seemed to amplify the pain and emptiness they were feeling, heightening the inevitable build-up of strong emotions each had about the past and the current situation they found themselves in.

Arizona had approached Callie and asked if they could talk. Once behind the on-call room door, she had told her that Leah meant nothing, that she was merely a distraction. Her way of coping: of dealing with her life falling apart around her. She just felt so lonely living in that hotel room. She didn't think it was out of bounds, considering Callie had thrown her out of the house. She just needed the connection _- the comfort_ - even if it was purely physical. She wasn't emotionally involved and she didn't want to be. It was just sex. Nothing more.

A few moments passed, though it felt like hours before Callie spoke again. "I love you," she declared, honestly.

She watched as Arizona's eyes widened, her heart dropping in her chest as she saw various emotions swirl through them: love, hope, confusion, and pain.

Arizona didn't know how to feel, her heart was racing and she couldn't think straight. She didn't know whether to feel hopeful or if this was Callie saying goodbye, ending their relationship once and for all.

"I'm always going to love you," she continued, her voice firm but thick with emotion. "And I know that if you keep pulling at me, I'll come back to you," she paused, trying to gain control of her emotions. "But I don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to love you so much that I hate you, love you. I want to be happy, Arizona."

Just like that the small ounce of hope was gone and Arizona felt an unbearable ache in her chest, her face registering some alarm at the finality of Callie's words.

Callie tried to head for the door but as her hand settled on the handle, Arizona pulled at her wrist, tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm not happy without you," she whispered, sniffling slightly, in an attempt to stop herself from crying.

Still surrounded by the grip of her fingers, Callie closed her eyes tightly; desperately trying to remind herself why she thought this was for the best. Her hand was still hovering on the door handle, ready to make a quick escape, but as she turned to face Arizona something about the expression on her face stopped her.

It broke her heart to see the tears glisten in Arizona's eyes, she wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but she couldn't. She had to protect herself. She knew that she couldn't escape their feelings for each other, not right away, but she was more determined than ever to move on.

"You weren't happy with me," she replied sadly, tears welling in her eyes and making her vision blurry.

With that, she opened the door to the on-call room, the knots in her stomach tightening and her heart beat racing at lightning speed, ready to explode, as she walked as fast as she could down the hall and away from Arizona.

* * *

Owen stood at the nurses' station, thinking long and hard over the chart that sat on the hard plastic surface in front of him. His brows and forehead furrowed in concentration, whilst his fingers played with the ball-point pen he held in his hand.

Cristina was leaving for the night, when she caught sight of him. "Hey," she said, approaching him and trying to get his attention.

Owen's eyes whipped up to meet hers in surprise and he nodded. "Hey," he replied, a smile spreading across his face.

Cristina took a couple of steps closer. "Thanks," she said sincerely. "For letting me use the printer today. It seems to be working."

Owen shrugged. "No problem."

Cristina was staring at him, not sure what to say or do next. She hesitated, before asking, "Do you want to go get a drink?"

Owen thought about it for a moment.

He really wanted to, but he knew what would happen if they left the hospital together. They would end up in bed with each other, and then in the morning they would say it was a mistake, but neither of them would really feel like it was. It would only set them back.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" he asked, his face contorting a little.

He knew that if Cristina said yes, he would give in. That he would put everything else on hold and leave with her. He would do what she wanted.

_Silence…_

Cristina, slowly, shook her head. "You're right," she conceded. "I don't know what I was thinking," she added, forcing a smile onto her face. It was a sad smile, and then she apologized, "Sorry."

With that, she began to walk away.

"Cristina?" She turned to face him. "I miss you too," he admitted.

She didn't say anything in return. Instead, she nodded her head and continued walking towards the large double doors of the hospital.

Deciding to call it a day, he flipped the chart in front of him closed and placed it back with the rest of the files. When he looked back up, Callie was also heading home for the night.

They looked at each other for a second, smiles plastered on their faces.

Callie let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "See you tomorrow, Hunt."

"Night," Owen replied, brightening a little, before Callie disappeared out of the doors of the hospital as well.

* * *

**Sorry for the lack of Owen/Callie interaction in this chapter, will be more next chapter! **

**Thanks for reading!**


	6. Welcomed Distraction

**Chapter Five: Welcomed Distraction**

* * *

"Okay, what do we have here?" Callie asked. All business as she entered the trauma room, pulling her other glove on, ready to examine the patient.

She was not amused when she looked up to find Leah Murphy standing at the foot of the patient's bed. She didn't want to look at the resident, never mind work with her, but she maintained her professionalism.

Leah cleared her throat, awkwardly filling the silence that had taken over the room. "Let me get that for you, Dr. Torres," she said sheepishly, picking up the chart that hung on the end of the bed, briefly averting her gaze. "Randy Shouse: twenty-three," she began. "Multiple injuries, after slamming into a..." she hesitated for a moment, her tone uncertain, "A brick wall..." she finished.

Callie looked equally as perplexed. "A brick wall?" she asked, confused.

At that moment Owen entered the room: he smiled briefly, eliciting a smile from Callie in return, before he made his way over to the other side of the patient's bed, his smile fading. "Idiot and his idiot buddies built a human sling shot," he explained, his tone firm and unimpressed.

"It wasn't supposed to hit the wall," Randy replied, wincing in pain. "It was supposed to fly over the house and land in the pool."

"Why would you do that?" Callie asked, not following his logic.

"So they could film it and put it on the internet," Owen answered. "Showing the world just how stupid they actually are."

"Dude," the patient objected, before crying out in pain as Callie examined his hips.

"Okay," Callie winced on his behalf. "That must have been some awesome slingshot Randy, because it looks like you've dislocated both hips. Now, I'm going to need to get some x-rays-"

"I'm on it," Leah interrupted, leaving the room before Callie had time to finish her sentence.

Callie looked from the empty doorway back to Owen. "These interns are way too perky," she declared, forgetting that Leah was now actually a resident, having passed her intern exam.

"Better than stupid with a death wish," Owen replied sarcastically, looking at Randy and shaking his head.

_"Stupid with a death wish,"_ Callie repeated, under her breath and more to herself than anyone else.

That summed Leah up perfectly in her eyes, sleeping with a married woman.

Much like with Lauren, unwanted images of Arizona and Leah had occupied her mind, but she knew that with time it would pass. Yes, it was unfortunate that Leah was a permanent fixture at the hospital, but she had been here before with Izzie, and they had managed to co-exist somewhat peacefully.

The fact she was already able to work with the resident was an achievement in itself, given the circumstances. Though, she could not promise that she wouldn't be having homicidal thoughts later on in the OR: not when Leah was standing right in front of her and she held a scalpel in her hands.

Baby steps...

* * *

Owen and Callie both seemed to relax once they entered the warm interior of the coffee shop, inhaling the strong aroma of coffee beans in the air. It was small and cozy, and after ordering their drinks they took a seat in the furthest corner, where it was quiet.

This had become routine for Callie.

Instead of sitting in the attending's lounge as usual, or going to the coffee cart which sat outside, right in front of the hospital, she was coming here: the hospital coffee shop, which was hidden away nicely on the fourth floor. She was avoiding Arizona. It was ridiculous. She knew it was: but, she just didn't trust herself to be alone with her for too long.

Distance was better: no, safer, in fact.

Her fingers curled around the steaming mug, and she slowly, absentmindedly, brought it to her mouth, never looking down and barely feeling the hot liquid trickle down her throat.

She couldn't keep her eyes off Owen; something had definitely changed between them, because she had never really looked at him like this before. She had never really thought about him as much as she seemed to be doing now. It was strange. Different.

_A welcomed distraction. _

That's what she kept telling herself, that he was a distraction.

He made her feel better when everything else was falling apart: he was just so calm, so understanding and everything was easy with him. That's why he occupied her thoughts and why she felt this way. He was just a breath of fresh air in her otherwise polluted personal life.

A soft smile escaped, tugging at the corners of her mouth and developing into an even bigger smile when Owen's blue eyes met hers. "Banana bread?" he offered, pushing the baked good across the table towards her.

Callie was starving, having skipped breakfast this morning because she was running late for work. Reaching forward, she picked up a piece of the banana bread and took a bite. "Mm, this is so good," she moaned, not caring that her mouth was full as she spoke.

Owen nodded his head. "Yeah, it's my favorite," he answered.

Callie smiled, taking another sip of her coffee.

"How's the brain mapping going?" Owen asked, curious. Callie and Derek had recently decided to start working on the trial again, which had been put on hold in the wake of the storm.

"Yeah, we're getting there," she replied. "It's a little slow," she added, honestly. "And it can be frustrating at times: but, it will be worth it in the end. I keep telling myself that when things are feeling a little hopeless."

Owen nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. "Of course," he replied. "I wouldn't worry, with you and Shepherd on the same team it's guaranteed to be a success. You don't give up."

A smile spread across Callie's face, before the words echoed in her head and her father's voice came to the forefront: loud and clear, her smile slowly fading …

_"You don't give up on your family, Calliope! You're married. You and Arizona took vows. You promised forever; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part. You have a child together. Did you even try to fix this?"_

_Silence…_

_"Mija?"_

_Callie sobbed quietly down the phone._

_"Calliope," her father's voice was gentle now. "I just don't want you to wake up one day and realize that ending your marriage was a mistake. That it was the biggest regret of your life. It's a life changing decision. You don't just give up. You fight for your marriage, for your family. You don't make a decision like this unless you are absolutely certain that you have exhausted all possibilities of reconciliation."_

"Callie?" Owen said, trying to get her attention: his voice nothing more than a whisper to her as she remained in her trance like state. "Callie!" he repeated.

She jumped, startled. The sound of Owen's raised voice snapping her back to reality. "Ah—yeah. Sorry, did you say something?" she asked, forcing a smile onto her face.

Owen looked at her, worried. "Are you okay?" he asked, his hand sliding over the table to cover hers, protectively.

Callie looked down and smiled at the gesture, feeling something like warmth settle over her heart. However, the moment was interrupted by the loud and obnoxious beeping of her pager that was attached to the band of her scrub pants. After looking at it, she met Owen's gaze once more and said, "X-rays are back."

She pulled her hand out from under his and quickly got to her feet, but Owen gently gripped onto it, stopping her from leaving. "You are okay though, right?" he asked, still holding onto her hand.

Callie looked deep into his eyes, seeing nothing but genuine concern and compassion. "I'm okay," she replied, smiling.

Owen's pager then went off, the annoying shrill ringing through the air.

He looked down to read it, before looking back up at Callie and nodding his head. "We better get going," he mused, picking up his cup of coffee, throwing his head back and emptying the contents.

With that, they made their way out of the coffee shop: Callie heading for the x-ray room, whilst Owen ensured there was an OR available for them.

* * *

Callie opened the door to the x-ray room and made her way over to where the wide eyed resident stood, looking nervous.

Leah began to speak as she inspected the x-rays. "Hip dislocations, fractures of his femur, ribs and metacarpals," she explained, following Callie's line of vision.

"Okay," Callie said, satisfied. "So, what are we going to do?" she asked, turning to give the resident her full attention.

Leah hesitated, finally making eye contact with her. "Well, I..." she stammered. "I, uh, I've already booked an OR. We're going to have to reduce his hips dislocations first to ensure he doesn't lose blood flow, and then fix his femur whilst we're-"

"Good," Callie interrupted; cutting Leah off before she could finish her sentence. She handed the patient's chart back over to her, before she walked towards the x-ray room door.

With her hand still on the handle she took a deep breath, turning back around to face her. "Scrub in, Murphy," she said, pulling the handle down, ready to exit the room.

Leah's eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly, but she quickly picked it up off the floor and said, "Thank you, Dr. Torres."

With that, Callie left the room.

Once they had informed Randy of his injuries, they explained what they were going to need to do in surgery to fix them. Then, they wheeled him down to the OR, putting him under.

"Dammit," Callie groaned. She was currently on top of the table, her hand hooked under his knee, ready to pop his left hip back into place. The right had been easy enough: this one, however, would not budge. "A little help," she said through gritted teeth, frustrated.

Leah tightened her hold, ensuring Randy's body stayed still: whilst Owen came up behind her, placing his hands over hers. They made eye contact for a moment, before he counted them down, both of them using their combined strength to push his hip back into place.

"Okay," Owen said, removing his hands and taking a step back. "Let's do this."

* * *

After the surgery, which had been a success - hips reduced, rods and screws placed in his femur and his wrist set - Callie and Owen scrubbed out.

"The lengths people go to for attention these days," Owen began, washing his hands. "Everyone wants to be an internet sensation. It's ridiculous."

"He's young and stupid," Callie responded, somewhat understanding. "Didn't you ever do anything you shouldn't have back in the day, just for a laugh?"

Owen stared at her, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

She raised an eyebrow knowingly, and he laughed. "I was a good kid," he said sincerely, quick to dismiss whatever Callie was thinking. "I was too busy with school and guitar to get into trouble."

Callie's eyes widened. "You play guitar?" she asked, surprised.

Owen nodded his head. "I used to play," he responded. "But I haven't in a really, really, long time," he emphasized, making sure to downplay his skills.

Callie was surprised. She had never really pegged Owen as the type of guy to play an instrument, though she had never really thought about it, to be fair.

"What about you?" Owen asked, curious. "Were you trouble as a kid?"

"I did have my moments," Callie admitted. "But I think I'm more trouble now than I was back then." She paused for a moment, thinking about it. "Yeah, my parents were definitely not prepared for the past few years of my life," she added, shaking her head and laughing at the absurdity of it all.

There really was nothing funny about it: but, if she didn't laugh, she would cry.

Everything had just been so unexpected these past few years: tough and constant, one thing after another.

Her laughter faded and sadness began to permeate the tiny room. Owen could feel it. They stood for a minute, eyes locked.

His pager filled the silent room, but neither looked away.

"Owen-" Callie hesitated, biting her lip. "Aren't you going to get that?"

"Oh—yeah," he replied, finally breaking their gaze. "Emergency in the pit," he explained, after checking his pager. "I should probably go."

He turned to walk away, but Callie stopped him.

"Owen-" she said, quietly.

He turned back to face her. "Yeah?"

Her face was soft, fragile. "I, uh, just wanted to say thanks. You know, for everything..."

Owen stepped towards her, resting his hand on her forearm. "Anytime," he responded, with _that look_ in his eyes. That look that Callie hadn't quite figured out yet.

She nodded, slowly.

Acting on a whim, Owen pulled her forward, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a hug.

Callie was stiff for a second, before relaxing into his arms. It felt good, incredibly good, to be held. Owen's body was warm. His scent familiar. And the combination made her feel something she hadn't felt in a long time: comforted. She dropped her head into his neck, realizing that she was crossing the friend affection line, and probably making him uncomfortable, but to his credit he didn't move or complain, he simply tightened his grip on her, holding her close.

They stood like that for a few passing moments, Callie feeling a lump form in her throat.

She couldn't help but feel cared for, and maybe, _maybe_ the tiniest bit sad that she couldn't remember the last time she had felt this... _safe?_

Owen pulled back, his breath: warm, blew against her skin and she shuddered slightly. He then pulled back all the way, moving a foot back, so he was looking into her hypnotic brown eyes. "I-I should go," he said, rather awkwardly.

Callie nodded. She swallowed, once, and stepped back, allowing her hand to brush slowly against Owen's neck before letting it drop by her side.

He walked away, leaving her in the room, alone.

She stood, frozen on the spot, her heart beating wildly in her chest and her mind racing. It was only when her heart beat calmed that she was able to move, opening the door and heading to the day care to pick up Sofia. A distraction, she thought to herself. She needed a distraction.

* * *

**Thanks to anyone reading and reviewing this story, I really appreciate it!**


	7. Emptiness and Longing

**Chapter Six: Emptiness and Longing**

* * *

Owen watched Cristina standing by the elevator, one hand resting against the wall, the other on her hip. He was worried about his ex-wife. She looked tired and frustrated: her eyes were dark from lack of sleep and her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail.

Shane Ross stood in front of her, holding a patient's chart in his hands and they seemed to be having an intense conversation about it. He had noticed that the pair had been spending a lot of time together lately. Shane always seemed to be on her service, which was weird, he thought, since his focus had always been Neuro.

"You're staring," he heard a voice warn, somewhere in the distance, but he ignored it, continuing to watch the scene unfold in front of him.

The lift pinged and Cristina didn't hesitate to turn and walk into it, waving her hand dismissively at the resident: but, he ignored her request, stepping inside with her. The elevator doors closing behind them.

Callie walked the final steps towards Owen, stepping right into his line of sight. "You're staring again," she repeated, getting his attention this time.

Owen lifted his head, startled. Callie watched him frown in confusion before he managed to mask it with a forced smile and shook his head, saying, "I'm not staring."

"You are and it's sad," Callie responded, with a sad but understanding smile on her face. "Here," she offered him the paper cup she held in her hand, filled with coffee.

When Owen didn't move an inch to take it from her, she stepped closer to him.

"C'mon. Take it," she said, pushing the cup towards him. "You look like you could use it."

Owen reached out, but then stopped suddenly. "Is this pity coffee?" he asked, laughing slightly, "Because, I don't need your pity. I'm fine."

"What?! No, it's not pity," Callie replied, rolling her eyes and shaking off the comment. "Just- take the damn coffee," she repeated. Her voice was steady and uncompromising – the voice she used when Sofia wouldn't do as she was told.

Owen stared at her, his blue eyes trying to reach her soul and read the real intention behind the steaming cup of coffee she held in her hands. Slowly, and with his eyes never leaving her face, he took the cup from her hand, and even though he knew she was up to something, he took a sip of it.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Callie asked, letting out a small laugh.

Owen blushed, realizing he had just over-analyzed his friend giving him a cup of coffee. "Thanks," he commented. "It tastes good."

Callie smiled at him, falling into step by his side as they made their way down the narrow hallway of the hospital to the lab, where she would be spending most of her day working on her brain mapping project with Shepherd.

"So, did you hear that Kepner finally set a date for the wedding?" she asked, her fingers curling and uncurling by her sides nervously.

_This is what she really wanted to talk to him about - the wedding._

Owen took another sip of coffee. "Yeah, she let me know," he replied, looking down at Callie with a smirk on his face, already knowing where this conversation was going before it had even begun. "Most of the hospital staff is invited, so she wanted to give me a heads up and make sure I had enough time to organize cover for that day."

"Well," Callie drawled. "I just wanted you to know, that I don't mind staying behind and helping out here the day of the wedding."

Owen laughed, shaking his head. "You're going to the wedding," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Kepner's your friend. You don't really want to miss her big day, do you?"

He gave Callie a moment to think about it, but when he noticed that she didn't seem too upset by the idea he waved his hands dismissively, saying, "Actually, don't answer that."

They both laughed, before falling into a companionable silence.

Callie looked over at Owen and her face lit up when she noticed he was already staring back at her with a smile on his face. "So, are you going to the wedding?" she asked, making conversation.

Owen shook his head and let out a loud huff. "I wish I could," he said, sounding disappointed. "But someone needs to stay behind and keep an eye on the hospital, and I figured it might as well be the Chief of Surgery."

Callie's mouth opened and closed multiple times, but no sound came out.

He wasn't going, but he was forcing her to go.

_Was this some kind of sick joke?_

Finding it almost painful to keep a neutral expression on his face Owen burst out laughing. "Of course I'm going to the wedding," he responded, amused. "Unlike you, I wouldn't miss it."

"You're not fair," Callie teased, playfully nudging him with her elbow and letting out a low throaty laugh, which faded into a bright smile. "I'm really glad you are going to be there though," she admitted. "I don't think I could suffer through it alone."

Owen's face contorted in confusion. "Suffer?" he asked. "It's a wedding, Callie. The ceremony is short and then you get to spend the rest of the day eating and drinking for free. Which part of that involves suffering?"

"You know that they'll be up there, right?"

Owen was completely lost.

"Arizona and Cristina," Callie explained. "They're part of the wedding, which means they'll be up on the altar with April throughout the whole ceremony."

Owen, slowly, nodded his head, still not seeing the problem.

"In dresses," Callie emphasized, knowing fine well that she wouldn't be able to take her eyes off Arizona in her bridesmaid dress.

That kind of physical attraction doesn't just go away overnight. It wasn't something that she could deny or push aside, like her feelings. It was constant and intense: and, despite her best efforts, it proved difficult to ignore.

The last few months had made that clear enough.

There had been so many times since the storm that the air between Arizona and herself had been so thick with tension - _particularly when they argued_ - that all she wanted to do was shut the blonde up with her mouth or push her up against the nearest wall and have her way with her, releasing some of her pent up anger and frustration.

Owen and Cristina had used this coping mechanism for years. They had become masters at burying themselves in sex and ignoring their problems: whether they were married, separated or 'just friends' - they always seemed to fall into bed with one another.

It's not easy to ignore that kind of passion.

To make matters worse, weddings had always held a special place in Callie's heart when it came to Arizona. They had experienced a lot of joy whilst attending their friend's weddings. They always seemed to heighten their emotions: be it love, lust, need or want. She figured it was the sentiment attached: it often made people take stock of their lives and appreciate what they've got.

So, she knew from experience that seeing Arizona in a stunning dress at the wedding was dangerous territory. Emotions would be running high and the drink flowing freely, and she knew that once she got over seeing Arizona looking so good in her dress, her mind would go straight to wanting to rip it off her.

It seemed inevitable - yet, it was the farthest thing from what she wanted.

Noticing that she had been quiet for far too long, she quickly dismissed the conversation, saying, "Never mind, I'm just glad that you'll be there."

"Yeah, it will be fun," Owen responded, trying to re-assure Callie, who still didn't seem entirely convinced that attending the wedding was a good idea. "Besides, if you're not at the wedding, you'll be at the hospital working with Murphy all day."

Callie looked at him, noticing the mischievous grin on his face.

She shook her head, unable to contain the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, knowing that Leah wouldn't be attending the wedding.

Reaching the door to the lab, they stopped, both staring at each other for a moment. "Thanks for the coffee," Owen said, still holding the cup in his hands.

"No problem," Callie replied. She hesitated, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she placed her fingers on the door handle. "It will be your last, by the way, now that I know you can't be bought with coffee," she winked, before pushing the door open.

"I knew it!" she heard Owen declare as she entered the lab, his laughter muffled as the door closed behind her.

She laughed and Owen made his way down the hall, finishing off his coffee and shaking his head, with a smile plastered on his face, ready to start his day.

* * *

Callie had spent the day in the lab, trying everything and anything to get her patient to move the robotic hand with her mind, but to no avail.

_"We'll try again and we'll fail again," _Derek told her, knowing she was disheartened. _"That's what progress looks like, Torres."_

She knew he was right, but the case had really got to her. The patient was completely miserable. It was like she had given up all hope entirely. Nothing her husband said or did made her feel better: she would snap at him and tell him to leave, when all he wanted to do was help in any way he could.

It was heart-breaking.

_Familiar._

She was glad the day was over.

The keys dangled on her fingers as she entered the complex, climbing the stairs one by one, until she reached the fifth floor. She already had the right key between her fingers, ready to open the door to her apartment. She held onto the handle as she put the key in the lock and twisted it, the door opening with a click. Retrieving the key, she pushed the door open further and entered her home; dropping them into the bowl which sat on the table next to the door with a clutter.

_Silence... _

The only sounds that could be heard from inside the apartment were the rustling of the leaves from the trees outside, the zooming of the cars passing by and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

The whole apartment was filled with such silence and emptiness, that the ticks-and-the-tocks seemed to echo within the four walls of the room; the snapping of the hands getting louder with each passing second.

Callie hated it.

Just her, alone with her thoughts: no distractions, no escape, nothing, but, silence...

Letting out a sigh, she peeled off her jacket: hanging it on the coat rack, before making her way to the kitchen, picking up the half empty bottle of wine and pouring herself a glass.

At first, she loved having the place to herself. She luxuriated in the silence - _the peace and quiet_ - especially after staying at the dream house, which had always been loud and boisterous: the kids running around, the new baby crying, Meredith and Derek screaming at each other.

However, now, the silence thundered around her, drumming in ears and amplifying her unwanted thoughts: forcing her to listen to them.

Taking a seat at the kitchen counter, she took a sip of her wine and glanced at her phone: no missed calls or messages.

She went onto her contacts, her eyes automatically drawn to Arizona's name, her thumb hovering over it through instinct. She shook her head and continued scrolling, until she reached Owen Hunt, clicking on his name instead.

_"Hey, doing much?"_ she typed out.

She was going to invite him over, just for some company...

She paused, biting her lip in contemplation, the reality of the situation slowly creeping into her mind. While it was okay to spend time with Owen during office hours - _in a professional setting_ - she was not so sure that letting him into her personal life, outside the bounds of the hospital walls was one of her better ideas.

She had been thinking about him a lot lately: and, although she swore to herself that they were 'just friends,' she did not know if she trusted herself to be alone with him.

Not when she was feeling like this...

It just set off all kinds of warning bells.

They would be alone in her apartment, where there was a room with a bed: and wine, lots and lots of wine.

Shaking her head to dispel all the negative thoughts, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, ready to hit the send button, but just as she was about to press it, there was a loud, urgent, knock on the front door.

_'Who on earth could that be?' _she thought to herself.

Placing her phone down, she jumped to her feet and walked over to the door, slowly, pulling it open. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, before a smile settled over her face.

"Hey."

"Hi," Callie replied, her smile growing wider still. "What is this?"

Owen stood at the door with a silver envelope in his hands, her name written beautifully on the front of it. He pushed the envelope towards her and said, "Open it and see."

Callie laughed. "You really didn't have to bring this here tonight," she teased, taking the wedding invitation out of the envelope and studying it.

April had already told the entire hospital about the wedding, but she guessed this made it that much more official.

Realizing that they were still awkwardly standing in the doorway she gestured for Owen to enter the apartment, but he shook his head, knowing it was a bad idea.

"I promised Kepner I would drop this off," he responded, honestly. "I was heading to Joe's anyway and knew I would be passing by, so I thought I could give this to you and that maybe, uh, you would want to come to Joe's for a drink with me."

He looked anxious waiting for Callie to reply - as if he was scared that he had made a mistake by coming here.

Callie smiled, nodding her head, "Sounds good."

Anything was better than sitting in her apartment, all on her lonesome. Grabbing her belongings and putting on her jacket, she locked the door, exiting the complex with Owen by her side.

Joe's wasn't too far from her apartment: it was about a ten minute walk, in fact.

It was a nice night; not too cold. Callie loved the feel of the cool breeze on her face, softly blowing her curls and found the warmth created from the overcast sky oddly comforting.

Owen looked at her and began to ask, "How's things with-"

Callie knew what he was going to say and stopped him straight away.

"Owen," she said softly, pleading with her eyes. "Let's not talk about that, okay?"

Owen nodded his head.

Callie was all talked out, having received numerous calls from her father this week.

She really didn't want to talk about how terrible she was for not fighting for her marriage anymore. She had done her share of fighting over the years and she was tired. There was no more fight left in her. The past few years - _last year, in particular_ - had left her feeling completely drained of energy: physically, mentally and emotionally. She had tried _so_ hard and failed. It was over.

Time passed as they both walked down the empty streets, getting closer and closer to their destination.

Owen was looking up at the sky, watching the clouds drift along. "There's something beautiful about a night like this, don't you think?" he asked after a moment. Living in Derek's trailer, he had come to appreciate nights like this, to appreciate the beauty that was inactivity. He would sometimes grab a beer and sit outside, staring at the sky, taking it all in and clearing his mind of all other thoughts. "It takes a lot to sit and watch – to truly appreciate something. A moment; that otherwise, might simply pass you by."

Callie couldn't help but look at him in awe; feeling as though there was so much that was said with his simple words.

She was struck by that word: moment. She wondered how Owen was able to stand here, unbothered by the world passing him by, staring at the night sky. He was calm; almost _too_ calm, very relaxed and at ease.

She stopped dead in her tracks, just outside Joe's.

"What is your secret?" she asked, curious.

Owen turned to face her.

He seemed to be able to make her talk. Callie found herself wanting to share her deepest thoughts and feelings because, somewhere in the back of her mind, she already trusted him.

"I'm at a loss," she added cautiously. "Even out here, on a night like this, my mind is elsewhere." She closed her eyes and inhaled, long and deep. "I don't know how to just stop and stand still — to forget, even for a moment - you know?"

Owen nodded but didn't say anything: he simply stared at her, with _that_ _look_ on his face. That look made her feel uneasy: it was like he was giving her permission to not be okay.

"It's pathetic." She shrugged her shoulders: the movement was jerky and unnatural, and she looked small, so small—almost as if she was about to break. She took a deep, shaky breath, before saying, "I am pathetic."

She looked so vulnerable: her eyes were brimming with tears and she bowed her head, looking to the ground, ashamed.

Owen stepped towards her, his finger hooking under her chin, forcing her to make eye contact. "Nothing about you is pathetic," he assured her, pulling her in for a hug.

Callie clung to him, savoring the moment: the sheer comfort she felt at being wrapped in his arms. Once the embrace had been shared, she pulled back and stared at him with a sad smile on her face, trying to keep her emotions at bay.

They were close, so close that Owen could see a sprinkle of gold in the sea of chocolate-brown that was Callie's eyes. He let his hand push back a strand of hair that was covering her face, tucking it neatly behind the shell of her ear and smiling whilst he admired her features.

They were lost in each other's gaze, overwhelmed by that feeling that had once more come between them; it was like a spark. A spark of chemistry and compatibility, a flash of clarity letting them know that this was the time and this was the person, but it was up to them to act on it, to let go and let it be.

Callie's eyes widened as Owen began leaning in towards her, she found herself mirroring his movements. She had imagined this moment before, but the reality of the sudden intimacy was overwhelming: her heart was beating loudly, the pace increasing from both nerves and anticipation.

However, just before their lips could meet the door of the bar swung open and Callie jumped back in panic.

"Owen!" Cristina declared, very obviously intoxicated.

Her speech was slurred and she smelled of tequila.

She looked at Callie, an eyebrow quirked in confusion.

Callie blushed, taking another step back. "Cristina," Owen said forcefully, the annoyance and surprise apparent in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

Cristina ignored him. "You two are friends now?" she asked, curious. She knew she was prying, but it was a little weird for her to see them socializing outside of work.

"How much have you had to drink?" Owen asked. He was more concerned that Cristina was alone and in this drunken state.

"I should probably leave you two alone," Callie interrupted, feeling uncomfortable about the situation and knowing that this was as good a time as any to make a quick escape.

She didn't want to deal with her feelings or with what almost happened, not now.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She briefly looked at Owen, giving him the best smile she could muster, before meeting Cristina's gaze, nodding her head once and walking away from the pair, heading back down the street from which she came.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! **


	8. Revelations

**Chapter Seven: Revelations**

* * *

Cristina knew before she even opened her eyes that the last thing she wanted to do was… well, open her eyes. To say she was feeling rough was an understatement, so instead of trying to face the outside world, she kept her eyes firmly shut, trying - and generally failing - to ignore the throbbing in her head.

For a brief moment, she found herself wondering where exactly she was. Which was a good question, she figured, since this sure as hell wasn't her room, or her bed. She desperately sorted through her clouded mind trying to figure out how she ended up here - in Derek's trailer.

Cursing lightly under her breath, she promised herself that she would never drink again.

"Hanging in there?"

Cristina swallowed hard, desperately trying to get some moisture in her mouth. "Barely," she answered, her voice sounding slightly pitiful.

Owen handed her a glass of water, along with some aspirin. "Here, drink this, and take these."

Her fingers curled around the glass and she brought it to her mouth, groaning as the cool liquid trickled down her throat and she swallowed the pills. A soft smile escaped, tugging at the corners of her mouth as she said, "Thanks."

Owen smiled back. "Can you remember anything?" he asked, after a moment of silence.

She remembered going out for a drink with Shane to celebrate successfully placing the 3D-printed conduit into baby Nathan, but the rest was a bit of a blur.

"Not really," she replied, taking another sip of water. "We didn't—did we?"

Owen's eyes widened as he realized what she was asking and he shook his head. "No—you were—we didn't—nothing happened," he answered, flustered.

Cristina had tried to kiss Owen and had expressed her desire to have sex with him, but she was way too drunk and Owen would never take advantage of her like that. Instead, he had pulled her in close to him: Cristina resting her head against his broad shoulder and wrapping her arms around him tightly, letting out a content sigh, before closing her eyes and falling asleep.

Even as he held Cristina in his arms, his mind wandered elsewhere; back to his almost kiss with Callie.

He realized that he could no longer deny his feelings for her. He enjoyed spending time with her, he thought about her when she wasn't with him and he had wanted to kiss her, so very much. He actually felt annoyed rather than relieved that the moment had been interrupted by Cristina.

Callie was beautiful - _inside and out_ - but she was still terribly hurt and confused about everything that had happened with Arizona.

Not that Owen was judging Arizona in anyway, that would make him the biggest hypocrite ever. He had cheated on Cristina, despite being deeply in love with her. He understood that there are two sides to every story and that whilst cheating is horrible and hurtful - inexcusable, really - it didn't necessarily stem from a place of hate. There was usually some other reason.

He was sure that the spark he felt between Callie and himself was mutual. Their chemistry was undeniable: but, he knew that Callie would recoil and try to bury her feelings instead of facing them.

She wasn't ready—not yet.

Cristina shook her head, laughing slightly. "Are you sure about that?" she teased, amused by Owen's flustered state. "You don't seem very convinced."

Owen nodded, smiling again. "Nothing happened," he assured her, sounding more convincing this time. "You didn't want to go home so I brought you here. You were tired and fell asleep straight away."

"Oh—okay," Cristina responded, slightly sad that her drunken self had wanted to be with Owen so badly that she had refused to go home.

Drunk or not, she really missed Owen.

She was surprised that they had managed to spend the night together and keep their hands to themselves. It wasn't like them, at all.

She knew that Owen had gone on a date with Emma shortly after the Gala and figured that they must be getting serious by now. It was her idea to try to move on and see other people, but it hurt that Owen had managed to find someone so fast.

She had started sleeping with Shane, who was wrong for her on every level, but provided the distraction she so desperately needed - especially since Meredith wasn't talking to her either.

She knew she shouldn't complain; this was a good thing, right? He was moving on, like she asked.

"I should probably start getting ready for work," she said, swinging her legs off the side of the bed and getting to her feet. "Thanks Owen," she added sincerely, handing him the now empty glass and smiling, before heading into the bathroom to freshen up.

Once Cristina was out of sight Owen also started getting ready; knowing that today was going to be a long day. He really needed to talk to Callie.

* * *

Callie had been avoiding Owen for a few days now, but in a friendly, passive aggressive way. When she saw him she would smile and when they spoke it was professional and polite, but it just felt wrong.

They had become such great friends and had always worked well together.

He missed it.

"Dr. Torres," he said as he walked over to the nurses' station, grabbing a chart. He looked around to see if anyone was watching them. They weren't.

"Dr. Hunt," Callie replied without even looking up.

"How are you?" he asked.

She paused, her pen an inch from her paper and turned briefly to look at him, ducking her head as she spoke, "We don't have to do this, Owen."

Owen sighed, rolling his eyes. "You didn't answer my question."

"I'm fine," Callie replied. She began writing again, "You?"

"I would be much better if you weren't avoiding me," Owen answered honestly. He stood poised behind her, his warm breath whispering in her ear.

Callie felt a shiver go through her body and she turned to face him, ready to get as far away from him as she could. However, Owen didn't step back: she had nowhere to run, trapped between the nurses' station and his body. "Can we please talk?" He looked at her desperately, like she was the only thing he needed, whilst Callie stared at him blankly.

She cleared her throat, picking up her chart and closing it over. "I need to go check on my patient," she replied, brushing past him and heading down the hall.

"Callie, wait!" Owen yelled after her, but she didn't stop.

"Dr. Hunt, I'm busy," she replied dismissively, not wanting to turn around to see him.

"Callie, I said wait!" Owen repeated as he caught up to her, grabbing her arm and dragging her into the nearest empty on-call room.

They stood facing each other: Owen's blue eyes piercing her brown ones, boring straight through her and into her soul. Callie had tried to not let him in. She had really tried, but one look from Owen and her walls melted away.

"It was nothing," she began, her tone convincing nobody - not even herself. "I mean, we're both sad and lonely, and we got caught up in the moment. That's all it was, right?"

She paused for a moment, not sure whether she wanted Owen to actually respond.

The truth was that it was something: she felt the same way then as she did now and no matter how hard she tried, the feeling wouldn't go away.

Before she knew what was happening, Owen had slammed her back against the hard wooden door and was covering her mouth with his own, kissing her hungrily. Their lips raced against each other, Owen's tongue instantly plunging into her mouth and mapping it out with determined possession. She whimpered against his lips and began to fall apart, her arms instantly wrapping around his neck, pulling him in closer so their bodies were flush against each other. She was a puddle, a complete hot mess in his arms, the walls she had built crashing down with each movement of his mouth, each graze of his tongue.

He was kissing her with such passion that she was blown away. He seemed to be pouring everything he felt into it, making her feel it too.

They parted when lack of oxygen in their lungs became a problem, savoring every last second of the kiss. Callie pulled back, breathless, leaning their foreheads together and closing her eyes for a moment.

When she opened them Owen was right there, his lips a hair's breadth away from her own. For a moment they breathed the same air, just looking into each other's eyes.

"This doesn't feel like nothing to me," Owen whispered; his breathing heavy. He softly let his forehead brush across Callie's: his nose rubbing against hers, and his breath playing across her lips. "There's definitely something between us, Callie."

Their lips were an inch apart and their breaths mingled between them.

Callie made a noise in the back of her throat as his breath washed over lips. "I can't do this," she responded, a look of panic washing over her face as she placed her hands gently on his chest and pushed him away a little. "I'm sorry, Owen. I just—can't."

Owen took a step back, freeing Callie from his hold: a look of embarrassment and hurt on his face.

_ Was it possible he had read this all wrong?_

"God, I shouldn't feel like this," Callie groaned, shakily running her hand through her hair in frustration.

"Feel like what?" Owen asked.

"I shouldn't feel bad," Callie replied, pacing a little before she walked back over to Owen, stopping in front of him. "I shouldn't feel bad for feeling good." Her eyes dropped to Owen's lips before meeting his gaze once more. "I mean, she cheated on me. She cheated on me and when I threw her out she fell straight into bed with an intern. That isn't regret. That isn't being sorry. That is having absolutely no respect for your marriage. And here I am, with you, feeling bad for feeling like this..."

Owen took a step forward, cupping Callie's face with his hand, his thumb softly caressing her cheek, "Like what?"

Her head was telling her no but overcome with emotion she leaned in and kissed him softly; her lips brushing against his in a series of tender yet passionate kisses. She pulled back and smiled, before placing one last kiss on his lips and leaving the room.

Owen watched her leave, and then allowed himself to smile. That was one hell of a woman.

* * *

Callie sighed and looked up at the door in front of her. She hesitated to knock, knowing that she would most likely find Arizona sitting on a load of paperwork that desperately needed her attention.

She still wasn't sure she was ready to face her, but it had become abundantly clear that this was something she needed to do if she truly wanted to move on.

The problem, however, was that she was nervous and when that happened her mouth tended to get the better of her; she didn't think before she spoke and that usually got her in trouble.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her fist to knock on the door, before pushing it open. As expected, she found Arizona sitting behind the large wooden desk with a pen in her hand, filling out paperwork.

She lifted her head and stared at Callie blankly, mouth open. "What..." She closed her mouth and looked away before regaining her composure. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

Callie nodded and stepped through the door, making sure to close it behind her. She didn't step further into the room; instead, she stood frozen on the spot, staring at Arizona.

"Hey," she managed to say.

"Hi," Arizona replied, placing the pen she held in her hand down on the table in front of her. "Is everything okay? Is it Sofia?" she asked, starting to worry.

Callie hadn't really been talking to her unless it was about Sofia, so she automatically assumed the worst.

"No. No, Sofia's fine," Callie quickly replied, putting Arizona at ease. "I was hoping we could talk—about us. But if you're busy, we can, uh-"

"I'm not busy," Arizona interrupted, sitting up straighter in her seat. Callie looked at the pile of paperwork on her desk that suggested otherwise, but Arizona was quick to dismiss it. "I really, am not busy," she assured her. "I have wanted to talk to you for a while now, Callie. I keep re-playing our last conversation in my head and thinking of all the things I should have said to you, but never did. I have so much I want to say, so much I need to say, to you."

Callie nodded, knowing that this was going to be one of the most difficult conversations she ever had in her life. "Is it okay if I sit down?"

"Yeah," Arizona nodded, "Of course."

Callie smiled and took a seat.

The room filled with tension; the air between them thick, neither quite sure where to begin.

Arizona smiled back, nervously chewing on her bottom lip, before she caught sight of the drawing Sofia had done for her in the car this morning. She laughed, picking it up and showing it to Callie. "Sofia drew this in the car this morning, she said that it's of a jellyfish and a rainbow mermaid, though I'm not sure which one is which."

Callie took the drawing into her own hands, taking a closer look, before they both burst out laughing.

As their laughter faded into smiles, they stared at each other and the tension in the room seemed to evaporate. It felt nice. Normal. Almost like old times, except it wasn't.

Arizona's smile receded, her lips pulling into something wan and sad. "Callie, I'm so sorry that I did this to us," she began, her voice taking on a more wistful quality. "Please believe me when I say that I know I made the biggest mistake of my life that night, and it's something that I will regret for as long as I live, because I love you Callie. I have never, not ever, stopped loving you and I need you to know that. I don't have all the answers, but I'm working with Dr. Wyatt to try to find them. All I know right now is that I love you and regret hurting you, so very much. I was angry and resentful, and I blamed you. If I could take it all back I would, but I can't. All I can do is try to be better, try to learn from my mistakes and hope that somewhere along the way you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I know that you said it's over between us but I want you to know, either way, that I'm really trying, Callie."

She slowly exhaled, nodding her head once and releasing the breath she had been holding. She was proud and shocked by her honesty. Dr. Wyatt was right, sometimes just being able to express your thoughts and feelings out loud helped. She felt an unbearable weight lift from her chest and she knew that no matter what happened next she had taken one massive step in the right direction. It was important that Callie hear what she had to say if she was ever going to reach that place of acceptance within herself and truly move on from what had happened that night. She was facing it head on now, after months of avoidance.

Callie didn't move: she didn't breathe, didn't even blink an eye.

_What was she meant to say after all of that? _

Arizona was calm, understanding and honest. It was a breath of fresh air to hear her talk so openly; she wasn't shutting down or telling her that everything was fine, that everything would be okay. She was working on getting to that place for herself and recognizing that it would take time.

"Callie?"

Callie had lost her train of thought. "Hmm," she hummed, realizing that she still hadn't said anything in response. "Sorry—I just—I wasn't expecting that."

"It's okay," Arizona replied. "I know that this doesn't change anything between us-"

"It doesn't," Callie answered, a little harsher than she would have liked. She saw a flash of what might have been disappointment in Arizona's eyes, and added, "Don't get me wrong Arizona, I'm really glad that you are getting help and I really appreciate your apology and knowing that you didn't go out of your way too hurt me, but at the same time, you did hurt me."

"Callie-"

"No Arizona, please let me say this," Callie pleaded. "I will never regret the decision I made to cut off your leg. Never. If I hadn't made that call you might not be here today and I couldn't live with myself if that had happened. I needed you. Sofia needed you, and there was no way I was going to let her lose another parent. That might be incredibly selfish of me, but I would do it again Arizona. I'm only sorry that I caused you so much pain. I'm sorry that I promised to save your leg and then made the call to cut it off, but please believe me when I say that I had a plan. I had worked so hard to try to come up with something, anything, to save your leg, even if it meant you walked with a cane or had a limp for the rest of your life, even when I was warned and knew that a prosthetic would actually give you a better standard of living. I wanted to do what you thought was best. Even when I found out you were coding, I hesitated... I actually stopped and thought about what should have been an easy decision. There was nothing else we could do at that point. You were going to die."

_"Do you think Callie's ever going to forgive me?"_

_"Probably not, I heard her telling some guy at the Gala that you're dead."_

"You- You don't regret it?" Arizona stuttered, biting down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering.

"What?" Callie asked, taken aback by the question.

"You were telling people I was dead at the Gala and you told Bailey that she should run the day of the wedding. Do you wish you had run?"

Arizona looked so vulnerable: her eyes were brimming with tears and she bowed her head, unable to look Callie in the eye, scared of what her answer might be.

Callie shook her head, and then moved to the edge of her chair reaching forward to take Arizona's hands in her own. "No, Arizona. Not at all," she replied, quick to dismiss the notion. Her voice was thick with emotion and the hurt she was feeling was written all over her face. Arizona looked up, giving Callie her full undivided attention. "I was angry and hurt, and I just—I didn't correct him when he said it. I felt horrible. Terrible. And I thought we were past the hard stuff: that we were finally good. I wasn't going anywhere, Arizona. I didn't see any of this coming."

"I didn't feel enough," Arizona admitted. "I was a different a person after the crash and I felt like my life didn't fit me anymore. I tried to be the person you fell in love with, but I couldn't, because that isn't me anymore and I just—I didn't feel good enough."

Callie squeezed Arizona's hand tightly, blinking away the tears that had formed in her eyes. "You were more than enough, Arizona. I'm sorry-"

"It wasn't your fault," Arizona interrupted, her throat catching as her emotions got the best of her. "All I could think about was myself after the crash. I didn't recognize myself anymore. I didn't recognize my life. I went from being someone who woke up happy to someone who didn't want to leave their bed and face the world. Everything was hard, and everything took thought and planning. My life felt like it didn't fit me anymore. I just wanted to tear it all down and start over. Just throw it away and find a life that fit who I am. But I'm starting to feel like I know who I am again. And I've had to give up things, but what I've learned is that I don't need much. I don't need much to be happy; I don't even need two legs. But I do know that I need you. And I need Sofia, and I need you, and I'm afraid now that I've learned all of that, that I made you give up on me."

_Silence… _Callie felt a sudden tightening in her chest that threatened to burst. It felt like someone had punched her in the gut and left their hand inside. Her mouth opened and closed multiple times, but no sound came out.

She had finally reached a place where moving on didn't seem like the scariest and worst idea in the world. The problem was that she had so much history with Arizona that it proved difficult: there was just so much love there, that moments like this made her question whether moving on and building a life with someone else was what she truly wanted.

_How could she be sure that she was making the right decision? _

At the end of the day, she had to do what she felt was best for her. They were being honest with each other and she didn't want to lie to Arizona: she had to let her know exactly what she was thinking and how she was feeling, even if it was something that she might not want to hear.

Finally, she took a deep breath. "I've met someone, Arizona. I thought I was finally ready to move on," she announced in a whisper: then, she closed her eyes and waited for the explosion. After a minute, when nothing happened, she opened them again. "Arizona?"

* * *

**Thanks for reading! **


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